Once upon a time 70 years ago, much to my grandma's dismay, this was my father's favorite playground. As a teen, he and a friend would often rent a boat and go out on the bay, sometimes fishing, sometimes following a creek inland or into the swsmp, and sometimes paddling to the opposite bank. Dad loved the water.
My mom did not love the water. She had fallen in a creek as a very small child and "nearly" drowned. (I don't know exactly what that means... My husband was found unconscious at the bottom of a pool as a small child and he still swims...) Apparently Mom was a sinker because she always claimed to "swim like a rock." Thankfully, though I wouldn't win any swimming contests, I can keep my head above water. Just please keep that seaweed off of my toes.